Terror on Shadow Island
by Dogs Bower
Summary: A secret experiment has been conducted which could lead to a new path of evolution where humanity becomes extinct. On the secluded and deadly Isla Sombra, Dr. Allen Grant must try to help stop it before it is too late. Rating might have to change.


I wasn't at all serious when I first wrote this but after passing several ideas between some friends and one of them seeing potential with my silly anthro fetish work here, they demanded I do better. It still isn't very good. This is full of many OCs along with Doctor Alan Grant and a lot of potentially squicking fetish things to come so if you dislike that sort of thing simply close out and move onto something else. You have been warned. :)

**Terror on Shadow Island**

Chapter 1: Kidnapping

Alan Grant's head ached far more than he wished to admit so he kept on denying that the situation he was currently trapped in was not happening. He was in fact, not lying on a cold floor of a storage room, tied with thick cable and handcuffed, bleeding from his forehead and bruised lip, trapped in a huge military style aircraft packed with unsavory rogues miles and miles above the Pacific Ocean headed God knows where.

Where the hell were they headed?

Penumbra. Isla Penumbra?

Any destination that began with "Isla" couldn't be good from his memory. He'd known far too many "islands of hell and monsters" as they'd been dubbed by the locals during his trips in the past.

No, it wasn't that. Isla Sonombra? Sombrero? Sombra! That was it. Isla Sombra. The blow to the head the faceless figure that had attacked him when he opened the door of his car had knocked his memory off kilter as well. Surely it hadn't done any permanent damage. Some people just didn't take no for an answer.

Not much more than eight hours earlier, he'd finished up a lecture at a community college. It almost hurt to see such lack of enthusiasm for paleontology these days but there wasn't much he could do about it. Everyone only knew him for "Jurassic Park" and nearly refused to accept him as anything else though it had been so many years behind him. He was getting older and each year his love for the beasts of old and the work he once enjoyed faded a little more. He feared soon he'd wake up one day and it would be gone. This incident wasn't helping that sentiment.

Johnson was the last name of the man who had come in and asked him, even offered him a large sum of money, to take on a special request. Jack Johnson. Enough money to fund his own damn theme park if he'd so wanted. Real money. Alan had since learned from his journey with the Kirby's never to blindly take up an offer with no research on the dealers first. But this man was very suspicious already even though his credentials seemed to be in order and the suit and gold chains he wore were enough to back up that his money was very real. It looked like it was dirty money, in Alan's opinion. Money he didn't wish to know where had come from and certainly didn't wish to be tied to.

"Well, Mr. Johnson, I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline that very generous offer," Alan had responded.

"That's really too bad, Mr. Grant," Mr. Johnson had said back. All with a smile, too. A very misleading smile. He walked away as if nothing had happened and Alan figured he'd never see the man again.

Alan walked to his car and fished the keys from his pocket, turning when a noise startled him and he felt several figures approaching. Several masked black clad figures, with very big guns aimed at him no less. A robbery? He had nothing important on him. Car jacking? His clunker? Not likely. They wanted him.

And so a punch to the gut and pistol to the side of the head had taken him down quickly. When he woke up, he was in his current predicament. The conversation he'd heard part of while trying to wake had been strange. Something about that island of shadows. Something the men filling the aircraft wanted very badly. Something that would make them rich and powerful beyond their wildest dreams. Something only he could help them get.

He and one other.

Footsteps came to his ears just then and he tried to look where they were coming from but was having a hard time turning his head. The feet wearing sturdy hiking boots walked over to him and whoever it was lowered themselves.

"Dr. Grant? Are you all right? They did a number on you, didn't they," said the voice. Wendy.

Wendy Rockwell. She hadn't told him but he'd overheard her say it to one of the men before he slipped back into unconsciousness while he was being loaded into the aircraft. She seemed to know him well enough, even begging them to be more gentle with him. He's a doctor, after all! It didn't help a whole lot.

"I'd be more all right if I knew where the hell I was and what was going on," Alan mumbled. He felt a warm washcloth on his head washing away drying blood from his greyed temples.

"Same here," replied Wendy. "Hang on, I'm going to clean up this wound and bandage it and then I'll untie you. I finally got them to give me the okay provided you don't do anything stupid, so work with me here."

Alan managed a weak chuckle. "Okay, I promise not to start round housing anyone once I'm loose," he said. Alan was glad he still had the energy to not have to walk with a cane these days.

Once the wounds were treated Wendy untied the cables around Alan's body and unlocked the cuffs with a key in her possession. Alan sighed with relief and brought his hands back to the front of his body, rubbing the aches from them and trying to get the blood circulating once again. He had red marks all over his skin from the restricting binds and so many hours of wearing them.

Now he finally got a decent look at Miss Wendy. She handed him his hat back.

"Here. It was on the back seat. When I asked who it belonged to Roger told me you."

He dusted it off and placed it back on his head with a smile. "Did he," Alan said, not even knowing who Roger was. It didn't really matter right now, did it?

Alan stole a quick glance at Wendy while she had her head turned toward the sunset and cloud filled windows.

She really was lovely except a few years too young for him at his current age. She almost reminded him of Ellie. She had long curly blond hair and was wearing a plain red open buttoned shirt with a white blouse underneath, khaki shorts, and thick white socks and brown hiking boots. She gave off the look of a tour guide but one with far more experience than showing off dusty old bones and tar pits to chubby disinterested children and their parents.

"I didn't know I was going to have an company here, especially not from a man such as yourself, Dr. Grant," she said.

"Alan. Call me Alan." He took off his hat and gave his ruffled hair a smoothing. "Nice to meet you though the circumstances are a bit upsetting."

"Okay then. Alan," Wendy said. "Same here." They shook hands. "I'm Wendy Rockwell. I used to work for InGen as a breeder."

"Really?" Alan stated more than asked, curiosity peaked.

"Yes, unfortunately it wasn't exactly something I was proud of admitting at one time. I worked at a very special branch of one of the facilities, you see. Not anything Mr. Hammond was a part of. He never even knew," she said, turning toward the floor to stare. Her eyes conveyed a definite sense of upset over something.

"Never knew what?"

"What they were doing in my branch of breeding," said Wendy forcefully, shocking Alan a little and making him give her a funny look. She looked embarrassed and calmed herself. "I'm sorry. I know you weren't there to know what things I saw. They stuck with me for so long, I just have trouble talking about it."

"I've seen things too, Wendy. Terrible things. I'm sure we all have. It helps to talk they say, but I won't pry for info. I'm not that type of man," said Alan firmly. "Is that what they want with you?"

"I think so. I'm still not very sure what we're supposed to be doing but I've heard there's a man they're after. They want him and his work. He's on this new island, and he was from InGen. The same part of InGen I worked under. So that means he was involved with the horrible things we were doing." She looked into Alan's eyes and her eyes were filled with fear.

"So something tells me these people aren't just after a new theme park or some DNA samples?"

"No," said Wendy shaking her head slowly. "These people want weapons. Biological weapons."

"Lovely," said Alan sarcastically and looked out the window at the passing scenery. 


End file.
